


petals

by jenhyung



Series: maybe in another universe [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Introspection, M/M, Pining, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 06:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13897797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenhyung/pseuds/jenhyung
Summary: 'If you love a flower, don’t pick it up. Because if you pick it up, it ceases to be what you love.' Osho — Doyoung / Taeyong (Drabble / Introspection)





	petals

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: 1k+ of no happy endings, not very good... sorry... wrote this in a half hour just before class... not-betaed, not-good

_Ever love someone so much it hurt?_

Doyoung could not on his life compare the pain that comes when he thinks of what will never be. Pain that doesn’t stop at the heart, but courses through his veins, through his limbs and to the ends, back again and into his heart, cold and piercing and far worse than he could’ve ever imagined.

Sleepless nights and blurred mornings, Doyoung wonders when did he let this come so far. Is it love? It must be love. It’s always been love, right from the start, there’s no other explanation.

What else could explain knowing every single thing about him? As if their minds and hearts have been connected by the red string of fate Doyoung so often hears about. Soulmates. What else could it really be, honestly?

It’s love.

Doyoung weaves it into all of his actions.

He has a stupid-looking hand sanitiser keychain hanging from his backpack, ready for whenever they go out to performance venues with less than Taeyong-approved cleanliness levels. He has an exorbitant number of chocolate bars stashed in his room for those precious nights when Taeyong comes to confide in him about the future and his worries. He has an extra set of headphones, that ones Taeyong uses, and an extra battery pack charger because he knows how technology reliant the other is.

It’s painful.

Doyoung watches the monitor, but his eyes can’t help but drift to bobby pins and flaming red hair. Every move of his arms or a beat of flashy footwork, Doyoung remembers being jealous the first time he’d seen Taeyong dance. He remembers thinking, _I want to dance like that too._

To his credit, Doyoung has improved. His arms and legs have learnt how to cooperate even better with the beatmap in his mind and it’s taken twelve hours out of an eight hour work day, but it’s all good progress.

“Nice work,” Taeyong had clapped him on the shoulder, a thin sheen of sweat over his perfect features. Doyoung had merely grunted in response, shrugging the hand off him and playing the rate of his heartbeat a reaction to their non-stop practice session.

Doyoung remembers being angry. Why was he still so jealous when he’s done his best? Did he not practice enough? Was he not good enough?

It’s in bed past four in the morning when Doyoung realises what it is. He’s crying hot tears out of pure _frustration_ , and he hopes Jaehyun wouldn’t wake to the sound of him sniffling into his pillow.

He wouldn’t know how to explain crying over falling in love with his best friend.

It’s not _I want to be like that_ anymore. It’s _I want that_ , _why can’t I have that_?

“Van’s here.”

Doyoung picks up his backpack.

His stupid keychain jingles noisily.

The hoard of them pad down the back exit, out and towards the parking garage. It’s quiet, as it always is. The day ends late, and it starts at four in the morning at the hair and make-up shop. Nobody speaks unless it’s really required on days like these.

“Hyung.” Minhyung is tugging on his sleeve. “Cas, Jungwoo hyung, Jaehyun hyung and I are going for something to eat later. Want to come with?”

“I’m a little tired.” Doyoung can’t shake the thought of _him_ away today. It must’ve been the lack of clothes. Doyoung plans to practice when they get back, practice until he can’t feel his legs hurting, his heart aching. “You guys go ahead.”

Minhyung nods.

The van pulls up, and the younger kids pile into it first. Doyoung waits for his turn, smiling a little when he hears Yukhei grumbling about being the tallest and yet having to sit all the way in the back.

“This wouldn’t be happening if I was in Dream, y’know?”

Just as Doyoung’s about to climb in, the last of them, a hand is on his elbow.

He doesn’t need to look to know. He feels it in his bones.

“Overheard you with Minhyung,” Taeyong says quickly. Doyoung glances back into the van; everyone is on their phones. Their manager is still loading up the rest of their equipment. “You okay?”

His eyes. His nose. His lips.

Doyoung fights with himself.

 _I want it. I’ve never wanted something more in my life._ You can’t have it, it’s not your place. Not in this lifetime. _When, then? I can’t just sit around, can I?_ You have no other choice.

He’s played this argument like a broken tape recorder.

“Yes,” Doyoung nods once.

“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

Doyoung doesn’t.

Does he really care? Or is it something he feels obligated to do as a leader of eighteen? Doyoung knows it’s not right to question Taeyong’s intentions, of _course_ , he cares the most about everyone.

But Doyoung wants to be the _only_ one.

“Sure,” he answers simply.

Taeyong frowns, and Doyoung immediately regrets his off-handed reply.

Taeyong has too much on his plate already.

Doyoung will never understand how he hasn’t broken down at the sheer amount of pressure on his narrow, narrow shoulders. He will never understand how Taeyong gets up every morning and makes it to practice and teaches everyone as if Doyoung hadn’t caught him struggling the night before. He will never understand how Taeyong smiles through the day and gives and gives and gives parts of himself, his heart, to the members, to the fans, to the performances.

Doyoung should do his best to be the one thing Taeyong doesn’t have to worry about. That’s the best way he can be of help.

“I’m fine, hyung,” he smiles. It hurts. “Get in the car, we’re making everyone wait.”

Taeyong is apprehensive, but he assents, letting go of Doyoung to climb into the passenger seat. He falls asleep the moment they turn out onto the main street, head sliding against the tinted windows.

Doyoung wishes it were his shoulder instead.

There are too many repercussions, Doyoung will never act on his feelings. Too many things could go wrong, everything _would_ go wrong, and Doyoung would do nothing but cause harm.

The last thing Doyoung would want is to cause any pain. He doesn’t care if it hurts himself, Taeyong would never feel it anyway. It wasn’t like they were _actually_ connected at the heart.

Or, at least, not in this universe.

In this universe, he carries a stupid-looking hand sanitiser, stocks his room up with chocolate, and makes sure his battery pack is fully charged.

 

 

 

 

 

(Maybe in another universe. Doyoung wonders if they’d meet again. He wonders if they’d fall in love. Would he get to pick Taeyong again?

Because he would. Doyoung would pick Taeyong in any life, and in every single one, he would do what’s best.

Just like he is now.)      

**Author's Note:**

> kudos + comments / criticisms are greatly appreciated ♡ feedback warmly welcomed! [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenhyungs) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jenhyung)
> 
> if you're in the mood for au / happy ending dotae, [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13816653) is for you!


End file.
